


Genji's New Puppy

by Dancewithknives



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Angela "Mercy" Ziegler is an Angel, Dogs, Feel-good, Feels, Gen, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancewithknives/pseuds/Dancewithknives
Summary: While traveling to see an old accomplice, Genji meets a new friend to relate with.





	1. Chapter 1

Genji’s new puppy

 

The train tracks stretched on for as far as the eyes could see. The tracks rode between the patches of farm fields in the open countryside until the green grass touched the horizon. In the center of the farmland was a raised concrete platform with a roof, a long bench, and small enclosed area which housed a single toilet.

 

A man stood in the center of the station, hat, scarf, bandages, glasses, heavy coat and an earthy brown colored pair of trousers covering the man from head to toe, hiding his true form from the world. The only hint of Genji Shimada’s identity was his left hand, down at his side holding a leather suitcase nearby as he waited for his train.

 

He waited for hours, almost like a statue against the cold spring winds that rushed through the open shelter, but even with his ninja discipline he could only stare out into the vacant budding fields for so long. Even he had a finite amount of attention to use until he got bored. He turned to go and take a seat by the bench, but as he moved to the seat something caught his eye. Placed between the end of the bench and a trash can was a small cardboard box. A life of constant danger had taught him to always be on his guard, that even the most mundane things in his surroundings could potentially be dangerous, but a piece of trash was simply a piece of trash. It wasn’t until he saw it from a different perspective that he saw that it wasn’t just common litter, but there was a sign on it.

 

Written in black marker was a single word, “Frei”. He approached the open box and looked inside. Within, a small bundle of fur was wrapped up in an oval, eyes closed. The air was cold, there was no blanket, no food, and the box itself was damp and discolored and held the distinct scent of ammonia. It had been here for a while.

 

The cyborg ninja reached with his right hand into the box, but stopped when nothing happened. He set his suitcase down on the concrete and instead reached in with his left and scooped the puppy up, wrapping his hand underneath its body. He lifted it up into the air and immediately learned why it had been left here at the train station.

 

While all others extremities lead to tiny paws with full black pads, the dog’s back left leg was rounded off at the first joint. Judging from the full coat of fur around the missing leg, it looked to have been natural and not an amputation.

 

The tiny animal woke from its sleep and looked around, feeling the cold spring air attack the side that it had been sleeping against in the box. It looked at the masked man who had pulled it from its shelter, and gave a whimper, waving around its legs and stump in the air uselessly until it was too tired and gave up.

 

He wasn’t a veterinarian, but he couldn’t recognize any particular breed in the dog. It had a short snout, short fine hair, and stretches of brown and black across its body. Until proven otherwise, he assumed it was a mutt.

 

Still examining the puppy, he began to piece two and two together, formulating his own hypothesis and guessing what he assumed to have been the true story behind the dog in a box. This life must have been the result of irrational ecstasy and lust. Someone’s prized hound had a litter with someone else’s family pet or local stray. Seeing this new being birthed into life deformed had caused a stir, it had been deemed by a council of hushed voices to not be worthy of sharing the house and thus an order was made to rid it of their sight.

 

But, for as much as the power to create life mesmerized and entitled those who possessed it, the duty to end suffering was far too crushing to accept. So out of cowardice, this innocent wounded soul was left here, the one to do the deed leaving the dog in an empty box to justify its cruelty, and left a sign for the world to know that its life was in god’s hands now.

 

“That makes two of us.” Genji said aloud to compliment his own story.

 

He pitied it. Fate had dealt it a cruel handicap in its life already, and suffering of this kind shouldn’t be given to anyone or anything. Yet, Genji was just one man, a ninja running from his past to shape a new future. He couldn’t know what had happened to this dog nor could he necessarily blame its previous master for leaving it to its fate.  He was just one man, and there were countless dogs with countless problems in countless boxes at countless train stations all around the globe. Saving one puppy wouldn’t change the world…

 

But it would change the world for this puppy.

 

He lowered the dog down and set the sleeping lump down on the bench. With one hand, he undid his coat and clumped it up, covering the animal up so it was safe from the elements except for its tiny nose. He took a seat next to it and continued to stare out into the horizon.

 

Eventually, a train rolled down the tracks. When it stopped for its new occupant, a conductor opened the door and stepped out. Genji stood, scooping up his heavy coat to hide his new baggage within, but when he reached for his suitcase, nothing happened. The conductor, seeing what he was trying to do as well as the sleeve of his shirt uselessly flaping in the wind walked out and picked up the luggage. Speaking in German, he greeted the man as he carried the luggage to the new occupant’s private compartment.

 

He waited until the train began moving again to unbunch his coat, seeing his new friend look around at its new scenery before relaxing once more in its new comfy bedding. As the mutt relaxed again, Genji brought his left hand up to his chin and asked, “What am I going to call you?”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

A line of identical brick houses with pointed alpine roofs lined the street. Each one had white shutters on the windows and a small fence marked off each home’s property line from its back yard up to the sidewalk.

 

Genji closed the wire gate behind him as the cab drove away. He set his new traveling companion down and carried the rest of his baggage with his free hand. Saltine crackers and water had rejuvenated the little puppy’s strength, and seeing this new world for the first time filled his tiny body with energy. Genji watched the dog, not sure if it would know how to walk on its own with its disability, but was surprised to see the little pup hop at his side, its remaining back leg able to allow locomotion.

 

The ninja approached the door and knocked, and through the door heard his sponsor call out that the door was unlocked. The cyborg set his luggage down and turned the knob, opening to door to enter, but once the way was clear stopped as a fierce barking split the air.

 

Genji had braved gunfire and explosions by both human and omnics who wanted nothing more than to kill him, but what he saw standing in the doorway caused him to take a step back. What had greeted him could have been one of Cerberus’ relatives, a large hulking wolfdog with long white hair standing up on end and long pointed ears. Icy blue eyes stared the newcomer down, hinting at an instinctual and untamed ferocity bred from generations of wild savagery that lie within. Each thundering bark came behind a row of sharp and white pointed teeth, each gruff gravely growl sounding like the preamble to it pouncing the intruder.

 

Then another, even more attention-grabbing sound cut the air. The words, “Schweigen!” stopped the barking, “Fuss!” caused it to stop growling, “Hier!” caused the animal to drop its head in defeat and turn around, “Sitz!” caused it to drop to its bottom with its tail between its legs, and finally a repetition of “Nein, nein, nein,” and a wag of a finger finished the beast.

 

Genji recognized the voice from long ago, the clear and direct way the commands from the dog’s mistress  was common in the operating room, but almost felt like a split personality when he considered who it was that was making them.

 

Dr. Angela Ziegler, PHD MD, was standing at the doorway to the home, wearing black stockings under a skirt, and a white sweater.  Looking up to attend to her guest, she said, “Sorry Genji, Gretel can be mean when she meets strangers.”

 

The traveler shook his head, “No need to apologize, doctor. I didn’t know you had a dog.”

 

“Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention it. Why don’t you come in and we can get started.”

 

“I suppose that’s good to know, because I brought a new friend with me.” Genji looked down at his side, but did not see his new companion where he had last checked. He began to turn his head and search the ground, meanwhile, the doctor tilted her head to the side, curious to see what he meant.

 

Fearing that he had forgotten the orphaned pup or that it had ran away in the commotion, Genji turned around and made his way to the road, fearing for the safety for the little dog running away in a blind panic. But before he could get too far, another round of barking grabbed his attention, but this time it seemed to be a way to signal him rather than intimidate.

 

The pure white dog was standing at the doorway again, but this time its head was dug deep inside a nearby bush at the front door to the city home. Her mistress, familiar with the signal, bent over and looked inside of her shrubbery to see what she wanted. She gasped, making a sound that could swoon the heart of any man as she threw both hands into the bush and came out with a small puppy.

 

“Oh, hello there. What happened to you, little baby?” she asked, holding the brown and black youngling up to her chest.

 

Genji returned, walking beside her and saying, “I found him in a box at a train station. I couldn’t leave him there, so I decided to take him with me.”

 

Angela turned to look at him, “Do you know if he’s had his shots done? Rabies? Heartworm? Parvos? Flea and ticks?”

 

Genji didn’t consider the added baggage that he had brought with him by bringing the dog and felt foolish now having to involve the doctor in something that he should have considered himself. Shamefully, he bowed his head and gave a no. If the doctor was frustrated with having to care for another animal in her life, she didn’t show it. Instead, she whistled, bringing her pet to attention as she turned around and scratched the new dog behind the ear, whispering to it, “Don’t worry now. I will watch over you.”

 

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Gretel sat in kitchen, bottom on the floor and tail slowly wagging across the cool tile floor. She sat with her ears up, listening to her owner and guest as they talked to each other, not wanting to be caught off guard and ready to obey any command at a moment’s notice. Angela was at the sink, bottles of animal soap and anti-parasite washes lined up in a row as she scrubbed the puppy in the warm sudsy water. Meanwhile, Genji was at the table removing his disguise. Each layer of bandages and clothing removed showing how little of his human parts remained. Once undressed, he stood in the kitchen, revealing his right arm completely missing at the shoulder. He opened his suitcase, presenting all of the collected metal supports and all the scraps of chassis that he could find from the missing limb.

 

“So…” Genji began, “what kind of a dog is that?”

 

“I’m not really sure,” Angela said, “I don’t really recognize any particular traits, so I would say its probably a cross breed. With some testing a veterinarian may be able to discover the parentage.”

 

“No, sorry. I meant your dog.”

 

“Oh, Gretel is a White German Shepherd Dog. After what happened last time I thought it may be helpful to have an extra pair of eyes around to watch out for me and guard the house.” The White Shepherd with a yellow collar stood at attention upon hearing its name, but then was at ease when no further commands were made.

 

“She is quite obedient, you must have trained her well.”

 

“Yes, her parents were service dogs, and the rest of the litter are police hounds. To be honest I thought I could just have the trainer do all the work for me, but in reality I had to go to obedience school to control her and not the other way around.”

 

The doctor kept her focus on the sink, doing a thorough job in washing away all of the elements that had abused the poor puppy’s body and leaving no scrape uncleansed nor hair unwashed. When satisfied, she pulled him out of the sink and pulled the plug on the drain. She gave him a rinse, dried him with a towel, and then set him down next to a small dish of water and equally small bowl of dog food.

 

“I don’t have any puppy food,” she admitted, “but hopefully this will do for now.” Done with her first charge, Angela turned around and attended to the undressed cyborg at the table, inspecting the wear and tear to the cybernetic armor and what could be salvaged from the amputated arm.

 

Their conversation and focus drifted to the topic of Genji’s prosthetics, what had led to his current injury, and any tune ups that could be done when she had the opportunity to do so. On the floor, the little black and brown puppy had staggered his way over to the bowl of food and started to dig in. Sadly, the kibble was not crackers, and the large adult sized chunks of dog food were awfully tough for a little dog. But regardless, he took as many pieces as he could in his mouth and rolled them to the back of his jaw, grinding his little teeth as hard as he could to crack into the hardened food.

 

It took several layers of saliva to soften the food up until it was ready to break, and after all that work it felt as if the nourishment wouldn’t be worth the effort. But before the stray could go for more food he stopped, seeing the guard who stopped them from entering the house the first time on the opposite of the bowl and looking down at him. The puppy stuck one of it paws out, shooing the bigger dog while at the same time trying to keep balance, and in response the White Shepherd tilted its head in confusion.

 

Gretel sat down on the cool tile floor, her tail sticking straight out like a full feather duster, and dipped her head into the dish, taking half of the food away in her mouth. Seeing this, the puppy whined and stomped his front paws on the ground. The older dog leaned its head back, letting the tabs of food fall to her back molars and gave the bunch a hearty crunch. When she was done, she leaned her head back down and opened her mouth, letting the bits of kibble fall to the floor near the bowl.

 

The stranger waited, watching to see what the much larger dog was going to do next, but only saw her remain seated, looking down that long nose of hers as she watched him. Nervous, he hopped to his paws and hobbled over to the regurgitated food on the ground and began to eat one after another, finding the pre-chewed meal much easier to handle with his baby teeth.

 

When the floor was clean, the white dog bowed its head once more and stuck its nose into the dish. Before she could reach any of the food though, she heard her master raise her voice and stood to attention.  “Gretel, no! that’s the puppy’s food. Shoo. Go on now.” The German Shepherd darted to her feet and scurried away, tail between her legs.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

The doctor led her patient through the house to a small sitting room with a sagging old couch covered with a cloth, a dog bed in a corner and a fake fireplace and a TV on the mantle. “This is where I used to keep Gretel before she was fully trained. Your little friend should be fine in here while we’re busy.” The ninja followed his doctor’s instructions, setting down his new pet at the doorway to the room. He waited for a moment and the doctor returned with a retractable wire gate and wedged it in the doorway, locking the puppy in without having to close the door.

 

The puppy watched as they disappeared around the corner and listened to their distant footsteps as they descended into the basement. He cried, thoughts of the box and the one who put him there returning to his young mind as the anxiety of separation set in. He remembered the cold, the wet, the isolation, and hunger of sitting in his box stretched on, days turning to night, hours stretching on to the point where he forgot what the world was like, and they only thing that he thought existed besides himself were four corners of brown paper.

 

But the more he thought of it, the more he realized how different things were now. Sure he was confined, but unlike before he could actually walk around in this place. The other place was cold, and there were bugs, and he was so hungry. Where he was now, he had a full belly, the cold was gone, and the bugs weren’t biting him like before. He supposed it wasn’t that bad.

 

He hopped to his three paws and began to limp his way around the room. Investigating and smelling all that he could at ground level. The fireplace and furniture were marred with clawmarks which slowly grew bigger and reached further the higher up they were. Strange brightly colored junk and tennis balls littered the floor, some deformed and ripped to pieces but then repaired with a line of needlework.

 

He slowed down as time went on, the warm water and funny smelling rub that was put on him had begun to dry. The evaporating water didn’t feel right, it made his fur stick out and meld tighter in the wrong way. So he took a seat and with his remaining back leg he began to furiously scratch, itch, and comb his coat back into order the way he liked it, taking extra deep and long pulls into his ear to free the delicate feeler hairs around the opening.

 

When his left side was finished, he began on his right, instincts demanding that he dig and kick with a leg which simply didn’t exist. He soon found out that having only one side of his body groomed to his liking was far more irksome than having none at all. He rolled on the carpet, rubbed his face into the ground, shimmied his back against the carpet, and even hopped his entire length against the protective cover of the couch, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t groom it right.

 

Huffing in frustration, the puppy sat his rump back down and gave a loud wine. If he couldn’t do it, then everybody was going to know about it. But unlike when he was in the box, crying, barking and howling just for the sake to prove that sound existed, his cries were soon answered by another.

 

He turned and found the big white dog from earlier standing at the barrier, her great size allowing her to tower an entire head over the gate easily. He cried once more, and she backed up a step, lowering herself to the floor like a spring being compressed until she shot over the temporary fencing and landing in the sitting room, clearing it with ease.

 

Once inside, the dog with a bright yellow collar circled the room, inspecting all of her belongings before she lowered to her haunches and then lay flat on the carpet. The puppy approached its host and rolled over, greeting the older dog with a submissive pose.

 

Gretel waited for him to roll back over to his front before she raised her paws and pinned him to the spot. The puppy kicked and whined as she moved and held him down until he was right where she wanted him. When ready, she bowed her head down and stuck out her tongue, its smooth and warm pink texture combing through his hair, hitting all of the spots that he missed.

 

For several minutes, Gretel groomed her guest until she was satisfied and released him. The puppy, happy to use its regained freedom, hopped to its paws and ran around in circles. With her work done, Gretel stood up and approached the old couch and climbed up, circling until she was satisfied with her sitting arrangements and laid down to take a nap.

 

The puppy stretched himself out and hopped around the room once more. Now that his mind was off the need to scratch himself, he wandered back to all the strange shapes that littered the sitting room floor.  Underneath the couch were big balls with bright pink and lime green colors, scattered around the floor were all sorts of fuzzy and strangely shaped cloth toys. There were thin dogs that were longer than he was, fish made of tough reinforced fabric, and alligators and piggies that would sometimes make a high pitched squeak when he stepped on them.

 

But there was something wrong about them all. It wasn’t that they were deformed, or were etched with stitch marks and dried saliva, but that they all had a certain smell to them, and with it came the knowledge that they belonged to someone else. He began searching, hopping around the room, checking under the couch and chairs, around every corner and inside of a basket overflowing with toys looking for something that hadn’t been claimed yet. Although it started because of boredom, his searching became more frantic when an itch and burn began to grow in his mouth. A puppy of his age was still experiencing growing pains, and as he scampered across the room on three legs, his teeth and gums made their presence abundantly clear to him.

 

Just when he couldn’t take the pain any longer, he found something to make his own. While every chair, toy and the couch was covered with a sprinkling of fine white hairs, the dog bed in the corner was completely unclaimed by any four legged member of the household.  Without hesitation, he pounced the large rectangular dog beg and buried his head into its cushion, latching onto any give that he could and ripping and tearing with his teeth. His little tiny pincers hooked into the fabric and took ahold of its texture, acting as a floss to his aching gums.

 

The bed was tough, and it put up a fight which to this tiny mutt was the most fun he had experienced in his short life. He ripped and tore and scratched and bit and pulled and barked and showed no mercy to the animal mattress. The fight was tough, and the bed was harder, but progress was eventually made. The stitches gave a cry of pain as the sewing was finally broken and a rip was made. The puppy showed the wounded opponent no quarter as the sound refilled his strength and he went further with his attack.

 

He didn’t stop until the mattress was defeated, its fluffy white guts disemboweled around him as he stood victorious over its corpse.

 

The fight was fun, but it was tiring. The puppy looked around for a place to rest and remembered the big dog on top of the couch. She would probably be okay to sleep with. The puppy hopped his way over to the couch and stood up on its hind leg and stretched as far as he could to get up on the couch, but was too short.

 

He cried, whined, and banged his paws against the couch to wake the larger dog, and sure enough she did. But th gradual opening of her eyes turned to wide eyed shock when she saw the fluffy white cotton covering the ground of the sitting room. She growled at the puppy, swatting him with a quick slap of her big paw.  But her punishment went unnoticed to the puppy as he jumped back up and cried at her for help.

 

Surveilling the carnage made her growl grow deeper, but then her ears perked up, hearing something from within the house. Silent, she listened to make sure her hearing was correct, and when undoubtedly sure she sprung to her feet and got off the couch.

 

The puppy whined, still wanting to get up on the couch and sleep as well, but jumped when he felt the larger dog behind him. Gretel bent her head down, placing her snout right on the mutt’s bottom, and shot him up, throwing the puppy up onto the cushiony couch.

 

He barked his thanks, and waited for her to come up as well. Instead, Gretel sat down on the floor right in the center of his fresh kill. He barked again, and in response Gretel laid down on the carpet.

 

Giving up on her, the puppy hopped his way over to where she had been sleeping earlier and settled down, first feeling the incredible warmth that she had generated on the couch coming off on his little paws. He rolled himself up into a bundle, right in the center of the hot spot. If she wasn’t going to come back to this warm bed then it was her loss.

 

The puppy was about to fall asleep again until a barrage of angry German filled the air, and he found the White Shepherd cowering in the corner, cotton puffs sticking to her white fur.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Dogs may not understand the exact concept of time, but one thing they do know is routine. With their master’s following the same habits on a daily basis, a dog can learn the series of events that lead to a predictable outcome. They can understand when a buzzing starts on a nightstand that their human is about to wake and take a shower before leaving for the day, or how a series of shifts and turns in a car means that the car ride they are on is about to end. Like all dogs, Gretel knows that nighttime dinner and being let out to go potty in the dark meant that it was getting close to bedtime.

 

With or without guests in the house, Gretel understood that now was the time for her to go on duty as the guard of the estate. She started her patrol as usual, pacing through the house and entering every room. While Angela cleaned the dishes, Gretel patrolled up to the windows of the house and looked outside, growling at anyone who stopped on the sidewalk for more than two seconds. When Angela locked the door to her bedroom, Gretel walked around the ground floor and inspected every door, smelling for any foreign scents in the air. When Angela was lying in her bed reading a book by the nightstand’s lamp, Gretel continued patrolling through the dark house, investigating every room and even going down to the big locked door in the basement.

 

Every fifth round through the house, Gretel entered into Angela’s room, slinking through the open door and checking to see that her Mistress was content. On the fourteenth visit into Angela’s bedroom Gretel walked up beside the bed and sat down, reporting to her owner that the premise was secure.

 

Angela, having adapted to the routine herself, set the book on the nightstand and turned the light off. When ready, she opened up the covers and beckoned in her dog in her native tongue.

 

“[Gretel, why don’t you come in and sleep with Mom-ma?]” She sang.

 

The White German Shepherd got to her feet and sprung up into the bed. Performing her final inspection for the night, Gretel stepped underneath the sheets and dove deep into the covers, inspecting the bed for any intruders that may have slipped by and were hiding underneath her Mistress’ nose. When satisfied, she slid to the opening in the covers and flipped onto her side.

 

Angela buttoned herself up right beside the large dog and wrapped her arms around her, preparing for the surprise benefit of owning a pet like Gretel, a cure for narcolepsy.

 

Angela didn’t know how much work getting a dog would be for a single person, but as she soon found out having to care for and live with someone else was good for her wellbeing. There was never any consequence for taking long hours at the hospital or doing an all-nighter downstairs in the lab, and because of that super fluid schedule, her daily routines were scattered and inconsistent. An active mind left alone and unchecked acted only in its self-interests, sleeping only when it was tired, or eating when the hunger was too much, or exercising only when the bathroom scale embarrassed her.

 

Having a loyal companion freed her from the bachelorette lifestyle. It gave her a reason to go home, to go out and take a walk when the weather was nice, to go meet new people, and also a warm body to share the bed at night and confide her hidden feelings to.

 

Angela wrapped her arms around the big dog and rubbed her cheek into her big fluffy head. She wrapped her smooth legs around Gretel’s tail and raked her fingernails in the space between her back legs and ribs where the fur was softest. Normally, she would be wearing a soft nightgown, but since she had company for the night, she had to default to athletic shorts and a t-shirt.

 

“[I’m sorry I scolded and swatted you today, sweetie.]” The human apologized, rubbing against the soft warm body in her bed. “[I know you were just trying to help that puppy, but he needs to learn the rules around the house one way or another.]” Angela reached her hands up and wrapped them around Gretel’s muzzle, arching the dog’s nose straight up to look at her. “[I’m sure you’ll make a great mother someday.]” and with that she gave the dog a kiss on her nose.

 

Gretel licked at the spot and Angela released her head, moving back down to hold her close and nuzzled Gretel on top of the head. She didn’t care if she woke up with hair in her mouth or had fur in her nostrils; it was worth it for a good night’s sleep.

 

But all was not well inside the house, for there was a loud and constant cry that echoed through the halls of the home. The first nights of adopting a dog are always the hardest, and this puppy was no exception. Angela, having already experienced this once in the recent years, tried to tune out the unnecessary cries for help, but Gretel wasn’t as eager to ignore him.

 

Angela had already come to expect Gretel to leave her in the middle of the night for a number of reasons, but tonight her squirming and ears flipping around to listen was obvious. Seeing that her bedmate wasn’t going to relax, Angela released her canine and whispered, “[Go ahead, Gretel. Go see your baby.]”

 

Permission granted, Gretel wormed her way out of the bed, sliding between the covers until she reached the edge of the mattress. There, she slid her front legs down to the floor and walked out, dragging her body and back legs across the cliff until they were free and fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Angela held the blankets and sheets so the German Shepherd didn’t take it all with her.

 

Gretel stalked through the home back to the sitting room from before and walked in. The gate was set aside in the doorway, not in use, and all of the white cotton had been picked up and destroyed dog bed thrown away. The fake fireplace was active, showing a recording of flames across its digital display, but did not generate any heat. In front of the fireplace was a wire metal cage, closed and layered with old blankets and towels, and on top of that was the source of the late night noise in the house.

 

Gretel recognized the cage. She used to have to sleep in it before she grew too big for it and was trained to watch the house at night. Gretel approached, stopping the sobbing of the puppy. The German Shepherd thought for a moment, and then brought her face close to the cage, feeling  the different textures of the bars with her nose. She felt, looking for the feeling of something familiar from when she was on the other side of the bars, and when she did, she pushed her nose against it and raised her paw to the spot. Using nose and toes, she moved a piece of the cage until she heard a click, and like the distant memories of her more rebellious years, the cage door opened.

 

The puppy barked with joy at his freedom, but before he could escape, he saw the big white savior block the opening to the cage and lay down. He barked again, demanding to know what was going on, and in response Gretel stuck her big head into the cage and gave the puppy a gentle lick.

 

Earlier in the night he had cried because this cage was like the box, he was trapped isolated and contained inside of its wire walls. But in that moment he realized something that quelled his cries and cured his sadness. What had made the life a nightmare inside the box wasn’t the hunger, or the cold, or the rain, or the bugs, but the loneliness. At that moment he realized that the big white dog with a yellow collar who had opened the door wasn’t there to free him of any earthly shackals, but instead to liberate him of the crushing bonds of loneliness. It was there as she stuck her head into the tiny cage that she made it abundantly clear that no matter where he was or what people thought was wrong with him, he was not alone.

 

The puppy crawled on his three legs up to his hostess and rubbed his face against her mask. He rolled himself up into a tiny ball and fell asleep as Gretel rubbed her cheek against him all night.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Angela found Genji standing at the doorway to the sitting room, standing silent and still in the morning light.

 

Although still in her sleepwear, the doctor approached the doorway and stopped beside him, trying to see what he was looking at.

 

There, she found her big White Shepherd sleeping on the ground with her head stuck inside of a cage that she had outgrown over a year and a half ago. Curled up beside her nose was her patient’s new puppy, likewise sound asleep, but cramped in the cage against his hostess’ snout.

 

The doctor took the sight in for a few moments before whispering, “You know, I really should take a picture of this while I can.” Genji agreed, but neither of the humans dared move from the spot or miss one adorable second. After another minute of shared silence Angela said, “You know, one of the women that I play Badminton with is a veterinary scientist. If you don’t mind staying for a while longer, I bet she could outfit him for prosthetics like yours.”

 

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

 

The scene was touching, but it couldn’t last forever. Angela was about to call the dogs to wake up and go potty, but stopped herself when she realized that Genji’s didn’t give the dog a name yet. She brought this to his attention, and after a moment to think about  it he turned to the two trying to share the cage and gave his answer.

 

“Hansel.”


	2. Dog Day Afternoon

Dog Day Afternoon

 

The inside of Angela Ziegler’s residence was quiet. The lights were off, curtains closed, and the only sounds being made was that of the rain against the windows, gradually increasing in tempo as the sprinkling turned to a shower.

 

Suddenly, scratching was heard on the front door and a stern voice followed behind it until a key was put in the lock and the door came open. A white blur of fur shot into the house, saving herself from the cold bath outside and shaking her coat dry. Right behind her, Angela, wearing a denim jacket with white wings embroidered on the back, entered her home and closed her umbrella. She unhooked her dog from its leash before doubling over and panting, her hands supporting her on her knees.

 

Gretel gave a bark making sure to reach all of the corners of the house with the intent to spook any uninvited guests who may have snuck into the home in her absence before she went out to investigate each room.

 

Genji entered behind his host, likewise unhooking Hansel from his leash and letting the puppy refresh himself at his water dish. The Doctor looked up at her guest and shook her head, “I swear, Gretel is the only person I know who hates the rain more than I do.” She raised a hand squeezed her bangs, ringing the rain water out before she feathered the hair out once more to look normal.

 

“She’s quick, I’ll give her that.” The ninja added.

 

Angela stood up and took off her denim jacket and spread it on the back of a kitchen chair, “Yes. Give her an excuse to run and she will drag you along if she has to.” Angela turned away and walked into the main room of her condo, commanding, “Fire: On” to the built in fireplace.

 

Although Genji was wearing a different outfit from the disguise he used to travel to his doctor, he still felt more comfortable hiding his appearance behind layers of clothes. But here, in the safety of Angela’s home, he wasn’t afraid of letting his true self show. He stripped, setting all of the clothes out to air dry while they moved on to the next item on the agenda. When down to the armor that made up his true form, he followed where Angela had gone, but was shocked to see her lying face up on the floor.

 

“Are you alright!” he cried, getting into a defensive position as he scanned the room for attackers.

 

The doctor picked her head up, alarmed by her guest’s sudden excitement. “No, I’m fine! Sorry to startle you,” she apologized, “It’s just that this carpet is so nice, and it’s just a shame that it gets stepped on all day. Sometimes I just take a moment to lie down and take a moment to relax.” She bowed her head back down to the floor and spread her arms out, making a sort of angel outline in the carpet. Genji observed her for a moment before deciding to join her. He lowered down to all fours, flipped over to his back, and then lowered himself until he was flat against the floor. His limbs were metal now, but through them he could still feel the sensation of the strings, the thick yet soft, bushy and cool feeling of the textile as it cushioned and formed around his chassis. “How does it feel?” Angela asked, spying him out of the corner of her eye.

 

“Good.” He replied. Even if he wasn’t comparing it to the hardwood floor of a monastery hidden in Tibet that he normally slept on, he still would have thought the doctor’s floor was better on nothing else than that she was here.

 

Angela closed her eyes and smiled, taking in a long breath and exhaled slowly. Genji copied her, but couldn’t find it within himself to take his eyes off of her. The fireplace was burning in its pit, lighting the room and warming up a big pile of blankets for the four legged residents of the household to help dry their coats. But all Genji could see of it was Angela, eclipsing the light and glowing in the dim household as the heat radiated off of her.

 

He owed a lot to her, more than she knew. His new body was a testament to her ingenuity and resolve to save his life when all was lost. When times were hard or when Genji had to face the darkness that was his past and the man that he once was, she was always there as a guiding light to show him the right way.

 

In a way, he pitied her. She was so beautiful, so intelligent, so kind, she was so much more than one man deserved. Through her years of medical service, she probably had an army of men just like him who she had saved, men who would fight to the death to be hers, but didn’t know how to be anything but her patient. She probably had scores of doctors who would were afraid to get closer to her for fear that it may come off as an insult or disrespect her intelligence.

 

Having fully quenched his thirst, Hansel –discovered to be a mix of Rottweiler and Doberman Pinscher – entered the room hopping on all three biological legs as well as his new robotic prosthetic. He immediately ran to Genji’s side. He licked his adopted father’s visor, but retreated away, still unfamiliar with his cold metallic exterior. He then turned to Angela and ran to her side, first hopping up onto her stomach and climbing on top of her chest, where he had an easy means to lick her right on the face.

 

The Doctor laughed as Hansel’s tongue slapped her across the chin and traced her lips. She opened her eyes and grabbed him right underneath his front legs. “Oh, Mr. Hansel, you have a very bad case of the puppy breath.” She declared, but then brought him in close and rubbed her face into his hairy chest, zubbering his exposed underside until she stopped and cuddled him against her cheek.

 

“ _Hansel’s got the right idea…_ ” Genji thought as he admired the courage of his new pet. He watched, and as he pondered it, he began to wonder if the Doctor’s lifestyle was intentional or not. He kept thinking, and began to realize that maybe Angela wanted to be more than just Doctor and patient with the people in her life. That the reluctance of everyone she cared for had poisoned her expectations when it came to companionship. Maybe her experiences made her think that she needed to be the good and morally correct doctor at all times, and almost maternal devotion to those in her care was an olive branch, one that she was waiting for someone to take.

 

Genji flipped to his side. Slowly, he raised his hand, lifting it from his side and slowly approaching Angela. The logical side of his mind was demanding that he stop, It gave him 1,001 air tight rational explanations that what he was about to do was an awful idea, the most prominent of which being that there were no words to explain what he was doing. Yet, at the same time, he knew that words were not what he should use at this moment, but actions.

 

Her eyes were closed as she snuggled the pet. Hansel saw what he was doing, and it almost looked like he was nodding in approval as Genji’s metallic hand inched closer to her.

 

He was almost there, feeling the threads on the sleeve of her V neck sweater against his cold hard digits when a heavy object collided with his back. He was dumbstruck, completely oblivious to what was going on as he was laid out on his front and a heavy weight was placed on his back. He looked forward and noticed his reflection in a nearby mirror, seeing himself pinned against the ground and a large White German Shepherd Dog sitting on his back, arched up and looking down at him.

 

It seemed that his ninja senses, earned and fine-tuned through years of rigorous training, were no match for the Angela Ziegler’s incredible beauty.

 

Angela opened her eyes at the commotion and looked to see what was going on, but had to cover her mouth to suppress the fit of laughter when she saw Genji pinned against the ground and Gretel sitting on his back, looking straight down with a look that could only be described as an interrogation.

 

In a voice that failed to control her German accent and a laugh that no man could be embarrassed by, Angela giggled, “This is mein momma; vhat are your intentions?”


	3. Little Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fanservice? This is Furservice!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FORWARD: The first thing I would like to make clear is that this chapter has no story. It is simply a character interaction written down with a series of events. I just wanted to make that clear before beginning. Also, I apologize for this chapter getting so long.

 

Little Spoon

 

Gretel sat on her couch. The dog was laid out with her nose just hanging off the edge of the cushion as she stared mindlessly at the wall on the opposite side of the room. The television was on in the room, tuned to a channel that read off unintelligible financial jargon as the stock fell and climbed throughout the day. The noise was a good background filter to the lonely dog, helping dilute the solitude of the daily life of a house pet, but what was more interesting to Gretel was the sound of heavy rain on the roof, blending into the droning moneyspeak.

 

Activity.

 

Gretel popped her head up. Her ears flexed and turned as she listened to the silent air around her. She hopped to her paws and jumped off the old sagging couch and retraced her way through the dark house. She made her way a door in the kitchen and waited, and a few moments later heard a deep growling as the garage door opened. She stood, her tail began to wag furiously and she even began to run in a small circle to back herself up in anticipation. The White shepherd’s excitement grew with each open and close of the garage coming from the other room, up until she heard the knob turn on the door.

 

“Gretel, Down.” Demanded a voice from the other side of the doorway, preemptively preparing for what was to come. Gretel didn’t recognize it, though. For as soon as she saw the knob turn and the door open ajar, she was up on it. She stretched her entire body as she stood on her back legs, reaching her claws out by some means to break the door down with the force of her love.

 

The dog gave up when the door began to push her back, so she fell to her paws and retreated, getting to safe distance for the door to open and waited for it with her tail hitting a cupboard and wagging so fast that it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the front door.

 

Eventually the door opened, and Dr. Angela Ziegler walked into her home. She was wearing a fine set of dress slacks and a shirt –her normal work attire- and was holding a big paper bag in both hands. She kept repeating her orders for Gretel to stay down, trying to minimize what inevitably would happen next.

 

Gretel, ecstatic to see her Mistress for the first time in far too long, ran to Angela and reared herself up on her back paws once more, trying to get a good look at the woman that meant everything to her and to make sure that she was fine. Although touching, the result was predictable as the large dog’s nails reached up the expanse of Angela’s legs and began to hook into the stitching of her silk slacks.

 

Although she had the patience of a saint, Angela raised her voice, now ordering her charge, “Down! Gretel, down! Halt! Heel!”

 

Gretel complied, the raised voice finally cutting through the canine’s excitement. Shortly afterwards, Gretel’s overbearing energy was controlled, and she finally dealt with the backlog of commands that she was given; starting with the ones from the other side of the door.

 

Gretel retreated, allowing Angela to enter her home and set the paper bag down on the table. She put her hands on the table to take the weight off of her feet and took a deep breath. Finally, she turned to her charge sitting at her side and reached her hands down, scratching her behind the ears and under the chin. Gretel leaned in response and helped direct her to the sweet spots that she couldn’t reach on her own.

Done with the brief affection, Angela walked away and said, “Come on sweetie. Time to go potty.”

 

Gretel’s ears dropped and tail hit the floor as she walked behind her Mistress. She followed her to the back of the house and stood at the sliding screen door. Angela opened it, allowing a hot humid wave of heat to blow into the air conditioned house. Angela repeated her order, and Gretel dropped her head even lower, only being able to look at her owner with only a slightest sliver of her eyes as she stood before the hot monsoon outside.

 

Angela put her hand on her hips. “Out!” she demanded, pointing her finger out the door and compounding it with a snap of her fingers.

 

The only thing that Gretel hated more than the rain and disobeying her Master was being yelled at, so she bowed her head and complied, going out into the back yard to do her business as ordered.

 

Angela closed the sliding door, trying to keep the cool air as pure as possible from the outside humidity before she returned to the kitchen. From her groceries, she stored whatever she needed to keep cool in the refrigerator before she took a seat at the table and took a long breath.

 

Slowly, she reached her aching legs up and rested her foot up on her opposite knee, undoing her shoe and letting it fall to the floor before doing the same with the other. With shoes undone, she took the foot up on her knee and slowly began to squeeze the toes, stretching and cracking the bones out from a long day at work. Feeling the weight of her body off their metaphorical shoulders, Angela’s feet slowly began to regain feeling and refilled with blood from a long day of heavy use. Next, she wiped her sleeve across her forehead, not removing much sweat, but felt like a sticky layer of saliva was pulled off her skin. Even in air conditioned buildings, it was still so hot outside that not even climate control could keep up with the sun. Before the day went to hell, Angela thought she was going to need to take a seat and wind down when she got home.

 

After a long day like this, she would normally turn the tv on to watch the news and slowly decompress from extreme activity to almost none, but it would be no use. She already knew what was going on in the town, afterall, she had been in it.

 

It was supposed to be an easy day. Hot, high pressure, and a high likelihood of rain in the afternoon. Angela’s plan was to go in early, get some work done, and then leave early and run some errands, but sadly nobody could predict the storm would begin so soon or be so strong, and nobody was anticipating a multiple car pileup that lead to an overpass collapsing, either.

 

But she wasn’t going to complain. She had chosen this job and her expertise led to many lives saved from years of service. So she may as well make sure it was done right. She wasn’t going to pity herself for having to turn around right before she checked out for the day or being in and out of surgery for almost 12 hours, but she couldn’t deny the fatigue and stress of it all. She looked out of the kitchen window and up into the sky. The pressure was so great that it almost made the sky have a haze to it. Likewise, the storm clouds and setting sun gave the night a strange look like that of an orange having the life juices squeezed out of it.

 

The thought of an orange reminded her of how hungry she was.

 

Angela reached into her grocery bag and pawed through the items, pulling out a small bag of adult dog food –sadly the only size available at the store- and pulled out a long cereal bar. She ripped the wrapper open and stuffed one end of the bar into her mouth. All she could comprehend at first was its sugary sweet goodness. Thank god she decided to grab one at the checkout line. After a few moments of euphoria, she began to dissect the flavors, the distinct crunch of graham cracker flake, the glue like sweet adhesives of melted marshmallow, and the chocolate… it was sprinkled throughout the bar, but the overall bottom, the part that kept it all from falling apart like Paper Mache, the foundation of the bar as well as the foundation of the taste, it was all chocolate, and it was amazing.

 

Sure, when someone was willing to grace her with a gift it was only fitting to request the best, but her pallet was not strictly cocoa delicacies of the Swiss variety. Hershey, Swiss, Mars, French, Ki’xocolatl or generic brands , it didn’t matter. She would have it all if it didn’t go to her thighs.

 

After the morphine like embrace of coca derived sweets, Angela returned to her reflection of the day. Sure, her body was tired for being on alert for the most part of 18 hours, but what really stressed her out was the other person in her life. Situations like this were what worried her about getting Gretel in the first place. She wanted to have someone to watch the house for her, but situations like this always worried her on how she could reliably take care of her when disasters hit. The thing she worried about the most was having her mind distracted on the big white love ball when she needed to focus on the task at hand.

 

Luckily, Gretel’s puppy months and potty training were easy and straight forward. When she finally could reliably count on Gretel to watch after herself and guard the house while she was away, Angela had the good fortune of learning that her next door neighbor was a stay-at-home-dad. What was even more fortunate was that he didn’t fear the big growling wolfdog when Angela trained Gretel to recognize him. When an emergency happened, her neighbor was more than willing to go and let her four legged baby out when her talents were needed elsewhere. To her luck, Gretel-

 

Gretel was still outside!

 

Angela sprung to her feet, and her ankles made her pay for her sudden movement. Still recovering, Angela’s ankles had swollen and didn’t bend like she had anticipated, so she had to hobble over towards the back door until she could make normal steps again.

 

In the faint glimmers of the setting sun, she saw Gretel standing out in the rain with her face pushed in the door. Her long white coat was now matted down and dripping wet with rain.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry baby!” Angela cried, opening the door and letting the German Shepherd in. Gretel was completely soaked with warm rain water. The doctor got down to her knees and reached for a towel kept by the back door for just such occasion. “Here,” she said, “Let me dry you off-” but no sooner had she finished the sentence did her guard dog shake the entire expanse of her body, ejecting all the droplets of rain out of her coat and causing her fur to stand out on edge. When all was said and done, Angela, as well as the rest of the back door, was soaked with rainwater.

 

Angela began to fill with anger, but then immediately felt it fizzle out. “Well,” she said, “I suppose I deserve that one…”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Once dried off, Angela filled a bowl of food for Gretel and then dumped the rest in a large tubberware container for the future. Then, as Gretel had her supper, Angela made her way through the house, first checking to see if there were any accidents on the carpet from Gretel getting excited or having to watch the house for an extended period of time.

 

Luckily, everything looked to be alright. So as the big dog finished her bowl of food and drank some water, Angela retreated to her bedroom and slipped into the master bathroom. She stripped, and then took a cold shower. Less to clean her hair and more to cleanse her soul, the cool water brought her temperature down and stress levels with it.

 

She waited for her hair to dry and prepared for bed. Even though the sun had set and a cascade of cool water had washed the day away, the night was still incredibly warm. She found herself standing in her bedroom before her bed contemplating the situation and what to do. It was a queen sized pillowtop mattress, the foam was already designed to retain its shape after being depressed, but the pillow addition to the top of the mattress was unmatched in lifting and forming to her body. Her sheets, a very smooth silk with a gentle weight of 10 pounds, would sound great after a tiring night like tonight. Yet, for as good as that sounded, she had a hard time getting past the prediction that she would be suffocated under their embrace and sweat throughout the entire night.

 

Making up her mind, Angela walked past the folded up pajamas on the bed and made her way over to the dresser. She slipped into black athletic shorts with yellow trim and a short sleeve shirt before returning to the bed. From there, she unfolded a light decretive quilt that ran the foot of the bed and aired it out.

 

With the end in sight, Angela closed her bedroom door until it was barely open, shut off the lights, activated the fan, and then slipped underneath the quilt; atop the mattress and heavy sheets.

 

The fan circulating the air was nice, but she didn’t particularly like the feeling of moving air as she slept. She put her head down closed her eyes and was about to go to sleep, when she heard the door creak open again.

Angela grimaced when she saw Gretel poke her head into the room. The big dog entered the room and sat at her Mistress’s side, cocking her head sideways as she looked at her. Angela felt herself fill with regret. Gretel was a good girl, she had been nice and patient all day waiting for her to come home, and as soon as she did Angela had left her out in the rain and was going to bed now. The White Shepherd had been waiting to do something all day, and now that Angela was finally free she was too exhausted to do anything.

 

“I’m sorry sweetie.” She said, “not tonight.” Angela knew that Gretel didn’t like variances to her daily routine. Today had been anything but ordinary, and the only thing remaining in their tradition was to share the bed together. But Angela knew that she wasn’t going to sleep well, and adding another warm body to the mix wasn’t a good idea.

 

Gretel stood. She approached the side of the bed and then followed the perimeter until she was at the foot. In one swift motion she jumped up to the bed and stepped over Angela’s legs. Although she hated it, Angela was about to shoo her away, but then the movement stopped. She flipped onto her back, and found Gretel sitting upright atop the bed in the dark room. She scanned the room and then slowly lowered herself to a low wait, all fours down on the mattress, but her head up watching the door. She turned her head to inspect her Mistress before scanning back to the doorway.

 

Angela smiled. It felt good having someone watch over her for once.

 

“Thank you, Little Spoon.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Dr. Ziegler dreamed.  She had been in this place before. Not the illusion per se, but the strange middle ground where she knew what she saw wasn’t real, but her mind was too exhausted to control her imagination.

 

She was in her bed, wearing a fuzzy pair of pajamas and slippers on her toes. On the ground on the other side of the room was what looked to be a cage, but it had no door or lock. Instead, what it held was a velvet sheet that blocked the view to the contents inside. The night turned to day, and movement started in the den. Gretel walked out of the structure, pulling the sheet with her as she exited. The big white dog walked up to the mattress and licked the woman on the face. She woke, feeling the warm tongue slap against her nose, and returned the affection by scratching the canine behind the ears.

 

Slowly, she stretched her arms out, but then shot out of bed when she saw Gretel leaving the room. Normally, such an extreme reaction to something as mundane as an animal leaving the room would be absurd, but that simply wasn’t the case, for in this world, the woman who had just woken from sleep was not Doctor Ziegler. In this world, she was simply Angela.

 

Angela followed the dog to the kitchen, where she prepared breakfast for the two and poured some dry dog food into a paper bag. The two ate breakfast together, and when they were done, Gretel walked up to the door and sat down. Angela brought the paper bag of food and set it on the ground. She took a red scarf lying on the floor and wrapped it tightly around the White German Shepherd’s neck. The dog licked her thanks for the help, carried her sack lunch in her mouth, and then left out the dog door.

 

Not wanting to lose track of her, Angela ran to a window facing the front of the house and watched as Gretel and a parade of other dogs left their homes and walked down the street, humans of all shapes and sizes watching them as they disappeared from view.

 

Then, Angela waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. The day stretched on as the sun made its way across the sky. Eventually, the canines came back. Much in the same way that they had left, dogs slowly made their way back home, walking through open gates and being greeted excitedly by humans with open arms. All, except for Gretel.

 

She waited, and waited, and waited even more, standing at the window and watching for her big white companion to come home, and eventually her patience paid off.

 

Scarf only resting across her back, Gretel walked up the sidewalk and entered into her yard. She entered into the house and found Angela waiting for her at the door.

 

Hands clasped together, Angela cried, “Oh, sweetie! I’ve been waiting forever for you!” She shot her hands down, reaching for a double ear scratch behind both ears. But a deep guttural growl made her repulse away as her hands neared.

 

Gretel’s scarf fell to the floor and the dog stormed past her. Keeping her hands to herself, Angela followed the dog through the house, asking her, “What wrong, Gretel? Did you have a bad day?”

 

The White Shepherd led them to their bedroom and entered into her den, curtain closing behind her.

 

Still in her pajamas, Angela went down to her knees and waited at the cage. She waited, but didn’t see any action coming from the inside. “Is something wrong?” she asked, tentatively reaching her hand into the velvet curtain.

 

A head shot out of the cage, and the last thing she felt were big white teeth biting down on her fingers.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Like before, Dr. Ziegler was very familiar with this place. It was a strange world, like a special compartmentalized pocket where minds and bodies disconnect. It was a lair of healing, one that could only be reached through a day of hard and exhausting labor.

 

It was dark because her eyes were closed, and although her mind was active, her body was in a standby mode. Like a machine being taken down for maintenance, her body was in a unique release of euphoria as it rested and repaired itself. Her mind was awake, and body was ready to respond if need be, but at this moment-and like times before- she was content with just lying there with her eyes closed as she rested.

 

But, then she felt something. Something foreign, something that didn’t necessarily alarm her, but at the same time her nerves were alerting to her presence. Was something in her… boobs?

 

Sure, for reasons that didn’t need to be discussed, a flash drive or a cellphone had been smuggled in her bra before, but this was different. It was… bigger, and warm, and heavy too. She didn’t want to consider what it was.

 

She opened her eyes and what she saw was too adorable to ignore.

 

Sure enough, there was something resting against her chest. Snuggled between her bussoms was a nose, and that nose was attached to a mouth, and that mouth was attached to a muzzle, and that muzzle was attached to a head, and that head happened to be a part of a dog named Gretel.

 

Gretel was sleeping perpendicular to Angela. All except for her head which was curved to rest in line with her Mistress and watch for her to wake up. It seemed that Gretel had fallen asleep as well, but not for long. Sensing the change in her heartbeat, Gretel’s ears began to twitch, and with that her eyelids opened to reveal her shining blue eyes. The dog yawned, licking her lips and wetting her own nose. Angela smiled in return and reached for her ear.

 

The doctor’s cellphone began vibrating on the nightstand. Waking up the rest of her body, Angela inspected it. It only vibrated once, a call going straight to voicemail, and the sender of the call was the hospital.

 

Dr. Ziegler hit play and put it to her ear. The message, sent specifically to voicemail due to its lack of urgency, informed her that the patients in her care after the incident earlier in the day had remained in stable condition and were being moved out of intensive care. It finished by congratulating her on a job well done and informing her that she was no longer needed to be on call.

 

That was good news for a change. First, she was happy that her patients were recovering. Secondly, she was relieved that she was getting a little time to relax. She looked out the window and noticed that it was still night outside. She checked her phone and it said that it was only 3 AM. She could probably try to go back to sleep, but with her mind being active now, she may as well do something now. As she laid there, she began to realize how hungry she was.

 

Gretel, shimmied her way closer and gave Angela a lick on the chin.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

A treasure from her exhausted errand run, a black piece of meat sat on Angela’s dinner plate. Seasoned, cooked, and served in the ways that she recalled her American colleagues during her Overwatch days enjoyed steak, the medium sized side of beef was illuminated on the table much in the same way that Angela would highlight her patients.

 

A fork holding the flesh in one hand and a sharp knife in the other, Angela put the serrated edge into the flesh and cut it straight down the middle, revealing a warm pink glow within.

 

She made another cut into the steak and freed up a section; lifting it to her mouth and testing how she did. Although cooked on a portable grill rack in her oven, the piece had a nice, crisp, and even sear, grill marks and all. Once her teeth broke through the outermost layer, a dripping of warm bubbling juice met her tongue, all the way through until her teeth had met the end of the medium cooked meat. She didn’t even need to uncork the steak sauce. This was good enough as is.

 

Angela moaned at the sensation. After a diet of coffee and pizza, this tasted as if it could be fit for a king. She then moved her attention to the other item occupying the plate beside the strip steak, chicken seasoned stovetop instant ramen noodles. She continued to enjoy her past-midnight dinner with a tall glass of water until she felt a heavy presence on her leg. She looked down, and as she expected, Gretel had found a nice and convenient spot to rest her head right on the lap of someone who had just so happened to be gorging on a sizzling piece of meat. She wasn’t begging, but just making her presence known.

 

Angela chuckled and smiled at the big dog looking up at her. Not one for fat or grizzle, Angela took to her knife and fork once more and operated on the meat, separating a long and thin piece of white fat from the steak and then further slicing it into three pieces.

 

She took the first piece in her hand and asked, “Gretel, would you like a piece of Momma’s dinner?”

 

The German Shepherd shot to her paws and ran in circle, finally regaining her composure and sitting down once more. Angela lowered it down and the dog snapped it out of her fingers. “Gentle!” she demanded, and the dog bowed its head in regret over its lack of control.

 

Angela took the second piece and showed it to her dog. She then twisted her hands together, creating a theatrical show as Gretel tried to follow each hand and stopped with two closed fists presented before the dog. Gretel leaned in and sniffed her two hands. Deciding on the gamble, Gretel raised her right paw and pointed at the nearby fist. Angela opened her hand, revealing a gleaming piece of fat for her reward. Gretel, much more gentle this time, scooped the meat out of her hand and chowed down on it.

 

Angela took the final piece of fat and was about to bring it to Gretel’s attention, but then stopped. She thought on it for a moment, and then let it fall back to her plate. She took her knife and fork and cut a small section out from the center of the steak, right where it was the most tender and juicy. She picked up the prized select of her steak between her fingers and brought it into view of the White German Shepherd.

 

“Gretel,” she said, “just take a smell.” The dog, responding to the order, sat up straight with her ears up at attention. Angela brought the meat forward and put it up to her nose, so very close to her mouth. “Sniff,” she demanded. The dog complied, almost shaking with excitement as she took in the expertly prepared flesh at her nose.

 

“Now,” Angela commanded, “Just a taste.” She brought the offering down to Gretel’s mouth, and the dog opened her maw wide as Angela’s fingers entered past her jawline. She held the meat between her fingers and squeezed, letting the juices drip against Gretel’s tongue. Not done yet, Angela retreated her fingers out of her dog’s mouth and set the meat down on the tip of Gretel’s tongue, releasing her fingers until only one remained, forcing the finely cooked texture down against Gretel’s tongue.

Like one of the subjects of Dr. Pavlov, Gretel began to salivate uncontrollably. Her breathing became slow and heavier has she used all of her power to fight against her instincts. Just when she couldn’t take it anymore, Angela’s finger shot out of her mouth, leaving the treat all to Gretel.

 

Angela laughed as primal hunger took over and she made short work of her much deserved treat. Done tormenting her companion, Angela returned to feed herself until a thought occurred to her. She looked down at Gretel, and Gretel returned her glance, and as serendipitous as a question could be, she asked, “Do you want to go for a car ride?”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

 The rain stopped and the temperature had dropped during the time that Angela had been sleeping, but the ground was still very wet from a full day of rain. Angela drove through the dark streets, her four legged accomplice sitting beside her in the passenger seat. The roads were mostly empty, and the traffic lights were all set to neutral tones, requesting drivers to use their best judgement until the day arrived. Eventually, the two made their way to a supermarket, and being that it was so late, Angela found a parking spot near the front entrance to the store.

 

Angela stepped out of the car and walked to the passenger side door. With the door open, the dog looked down and saw the big dirty puddles that covered the ground and backed away, not wanting to get drenched in desecrated rainwater. Angela strapped a leash to Gretel, much to her chagrin, and pulled her forward. The dog resisted, but when she was at the edge of the seat, Angela wrapped her arms around Gretel’s back and hoisted the dog up into her arms. Angela’s arms around the great big dog’s butt and Gretel’s legs holding on for dear life around her waist and neck, Angela ran through the stretch of blacktop until she entered the store.

 

She was still wearing the athletic wear that she had from earlier, this time the only difference being boots on her feet and a slim cut trench coat. She entered the store and stopped at the big corral of shopping carts and approached the nearest one. She plopped Gretel in the main compartment and wrapped the extra stretch of leash around her hand and pushed the cart into the store.

 

The Graveyard shift, elders and teenagers who either needed something to do to occupy their nights or needed the extra work, were sparsely scattered throughout the store. A young man was stationed at the entrance, half asleep and bored out of his mind. The sudden customer shook him awake. He noticed that she was entering the store with a canine in the basket. The store did indeed welcome the use of service dogs to assist shoppers, but the dog was not wearing the proper vest and harness, and no service dog that he had ever seen was _riding_ inside of the shopping cart.  But noticing and seeing are two different things, and although his mind had at one point registered the big white dog staring him down as it rode past, the only thing that he saw were those long white legs, the same ones that he would be seeing in his dreams when his shift ended, growing out from the bottom of the coat in a way that made him think that she wasn’t wearing pants at all.

 

Angela, happy that charm managed to bypass the market’s security, walked with her pet in a cart through the halls until she reached the very back of the store. Between toys and camping supplies was a single row of everything pet related. Cat litter, bird seed, dog food, bones, and most importantly, toys. Sure, the selection was lacking in comparison to an actual pet store, but unlike an actual store, the supermarket was actually open at this hour.

 

The two girls walked down the aisle, and Gretel excitedly turned her head from side to side, Angela trying to follow the German Shepherd’s vision.

 

First, Angela stopped at a large selection of bones. She looked through the bin, inspecting size, strength, consistency, and finally decided on a great big rawhide, almost a meter in length and as thick as a human arm. “A good girl like you deserves a big bone to chew on, don’t you sweetie?” she said, and the dog’s tail wagged excitedly at the sight of the plastic wrapped rawhide.

 

She then continued down the hall and inspected the toys. The plastic and thin rubber ones were a waste of time. Within half an hour of setting them down she usually found them ripped to pieces in different rooms of the house. She looked through the felt and fabric toys, passing by the ones that she recalled already buying for the dog and stopped at a bin full of toys. Although they looked fragile, they seemed different, soft even, they may actually be able to survive being shaken to death unlike some other toys. Each one was a cloth dog that was a primary color, blues, reds, greens, and yellows. Feeling them, they all felt like they were made of soft stuffing, and as she squeezed one, it squeaked a long honking sound. Each dog was tubular in shape, about the length of an American foot, and only a few inches round.

 

“Oh, what are these?” Angela asked, exaggerating her voice to get Gretel’s attention. She pawed through the section, seeing all sort of different colors and some that even had accessories. She stopped when she found one, a green dog with a small medical coat around its front legs and a stethoscope embroidered onto its cranium. She brought it to the dog in the cart, “How about this one, Gretel? It’s a doctor, just like momma.” The dog sniffed it, and then opened her mouth, taking it and then spitting it out back into the bin.

 

It was disappointing on many levels, but at the same time incredibly funny to Dr. Ziegler. “Okay then,” she kept searching, looking through the pile until she found another one, “oh, look at this!” she said. She presented the toy, a bright pink dog with angel wings on its back and a tiny yellow halo atop its head. “Do you want the angel doggie, sweetie?”

Gretel sniffed it again, and when she took it in her mouth she dropped it into the cart right next to her bone.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Dr. Ziegler’s personal lab was located in the basement. While it was supposed to be a second den and bar, the plans for the basement were changed when she made her intentions clear for the underground chamber. The door to the lab was secured with a lock and pin pad, and beyond the door was standard fare for medical labs, but what was rather curious was a door on the far side of the lab. To those who had been into the lab, the only hint at the contents that lay within was a single sign, Biohazard. After that warning, the subject was dropped from the minds of curious people, not wanting to know what grotesque and frankenstienian experiments the brilliant doctor hid on the other side of the door.

 

At the darkest hours of the night, Angela was in the marked room. It held no dangerous contagions, no severed human limbs, or rogue strand of nanobiotic medicine that could spell the end for humanity. Instead, what secrets the door secured in the hidden room was a laundry machine, and keeping said laundry machine company was the doctor’s most prized possessions, a two person hot tub.

 

The doctor, never one to be caught off guard, was wearing a navy blue one piece swimsuit as she waded into its warm waters. The cold shower may have helped wash the stress away from the hot day away, but the waters of this tub were what healed the damage that the day had done to her mind and body.

 

The warm water, kept at an even 37.8 degrees Celsius, was not distilled with a special breed of nanites or yellow healing biotics. Instead, all it held distilled within its clear waters was a mild sprinkling of bromine.

 

Angela bathed in the warm embrace of the bubbling water. She was submerged except for her head, feet, and hands as her body balanced in the tub’s molded seat. The only other sound in the room came from a small mattress at the floor, at a little dog bed where Gretel was busy chewing away on her brand new Rawhide and her stuffed angel doggie toy was poking out from underneath her body, securely in her protection.

 

A thin layer of moisturizer was spread around Angela’s eyes to open and rejuvenate her pores, and a bottle of Mexican beer, cold as ice and shining like liquid gold, was held above the water in one of her free hands.

 

She listened to the bubbling waters and Gretel happily gnawing away at her new bone as she relaxed. She began to think, and considered how much of a good girl Gretel was, being alone and dutifully watching over the house while she was away, it must have been so boring for her. As Angela kept thinking about it, she began to realize that it may be time to get another puppy.

 

She had done her research when it came to enlisting the help of a canine to assist in guarding her possessions, and throughout it all the German Shepherd always seemed to come out on top as the most elite choice in the matter. But as time went on, her “Research” later turned to cute and funny dog and cat videos on the internet, and with that all sorts of different breeds of dogs came to her mind. It wouldn’t be easy, Angela would still have to make a priority to potty train a new dog and constantly be worried about it making a mistake in her house all day, but in the case of Gretel, it was worth it. Sure, the easy way out would probably be to get a cat, but cats are cold and unfeeling. Angela doubted that a cat would know when she was tired, frustrated, or sad like how Gretel could. Sure, a cat would help Gretel pass the time each day until she was home, but the only other thing the cat could do that a dog couldn’t is poop in a sand box, and the last thing she needed was to have her house and clothes smell like cat urine.

 

She began thinking, trying to select a breed to be the little sibling to her precious Sweetie. Maybe a Boxer? They have a lot of energy, and their funny scrunched up face was so adorable. Or possibly a Doberman? A Poodle? Maybe a terrier of some kind even. Maybe a Dachshund… That was it! A Dachshund…. And maybe she’d name it…. Dumbledore? Daffodil? Daisy? That’s it! Daisy the Doxxie.

 

From what she remembered of her childhood home, her parents shared a Dachshund- a little brown miniature- before she was born. She didn’t remember it personally, so it must have passed beforehand or soon after. Gretel had been such a good momma to little Hansel while he was here that she was sure that the big White German Shepherd could handle a sassy little dachshund.

 

It would have to be a girl, of course. Just thinking of the… _logistics_ of it all was, well funny. Of course she couldn’t forget that she wasn’t allowed to let Gretel breed.

 

Gretel…

 

Angela opened her eyes and moved over in the tub, coming to the edge to look down at her big dog. She was still happily chewing away at her new bone. Angela set her drink aside and reached down and scratched her on the ear.

 

Angela’s ownership of Gretel was a peculiar case. In a way, it was almost as if she was leasing the dog. Money wasn’t an issue, but time was. When Angela approached the Breeders for a guard dog they signed an agreement together. The doctor was to raise the puppy and would receive assistance in training the dog to protect her for the time, and after a few years or when she no longer needed her, Gretel was to return to the breeder to either be turned over to perform service elsewhere, or have a litter of puppies of her own. After all, a strong female with good genetics was a valuable thing.

 

It wasn’t that Angela couldn’t afford to buy the dog, but that she didn’t trust herself to properly take care of Gretel at all times. The way her life was now, Angela was moving from place to place for a few years to work where she was needed or to develop a breakthrough in her work. There was no telling that she would be able to take the big dog with her wherever she went, and at the time, she didn’t anticipate that she would grow so attached to the big white dog.

 

For now, she made sure that Gretel was properly maintained and celibate. She took good care for her, but eventually she was going to have to make a tough decision; keep Gretel forever, or let her go to have a litter of her own. In a way, she felt that she could relate to the conundrum, at her age Angela should have a loving husband and children of her own as well, but she wasn’t ready yet. From the day that she learned that both of her parents had been killed so very long ago, she understood that the world was a dangerous place. Overwatch, and trying to make the world a better place had opened her already skeptical eyes even further with each passing day. As it was now, she wasn’t comfortable bringing children into the world with the way it was. She knew what she was, she knew the talents that she had, and at this time in her life, she knew she needed to put people back together every time they broke.

 

Angela banished the thoughts from her mind. If she focused on the end too much, she would forget to enjoy the present while she still had it. Her mind began to wander once more, but this time debating on what would be cuter, German Shepherd sized Dachshunds, or Dachshund sized German Shepherds.

 

There was a soft and warm licking at her fingers. Angela looked over and saw Gretel reared up with two paws on the side of the hot tub happily licking her hand as she peered at her mistress. Seeing that she had her attention, Gretel closed her mouth and pulled her hand towards the door.

 

Angela asked, “What’s the matter, dear? Do you need to go potty?” The dog dropped to all fours and ran in a small circle. “Okay!” she said, “Lets go out.”

 

Angela stood and began toweling herself off. She stepped out of the tub as water dripped from her feet on to the cold basement tiles. The feeling was shocking, but to her luck the warm water helped curb the floor’s bite. The doctor glanced around, looking for her sandals, and found them all the way in the corner near the door to the lab. Angela considered the what to do while still minimizing the exposure of her feet to cold floor, and then had an idea as a tongue slapped against a water droplet dripping down her leg.

 

“Gretel,” she asked, “would you mind getting mommy’s flip flops?”

 

Two seconds later, both sandals were at the doctor’s feet.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

 “Too many toys…” Angela kept repeating, “too many toys…”. Angela walked around the sitting room, sorting through all of the toys that were scattered on the floor and inspecting them. Ones that were fine were tossed back in their basket, while those that needed repair were set aside in a pile to be sewn together. Finally, those that had been repaired too many times or were completely destroyed were gathered in a bag to be disposed of later. Gretel ran around at her feet, picking up her toys and likewise placing as many as she could find back in her basket.

 

Although she was really saying it because she knew it got Gretel agitated, there was some truth to the statement. Gretel did have a lot of toys, too many it would seem, but what really amazed her was how she got every single one out each day. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Gretel valiantly defending the house, watching for any passerby through a slit in the blinds, and then going on mandatory breaks or lunchtime and playing like a puppy before going back to being the vicious descendant of wolves.

 

Finally, when the carpet was clean of debris and dismembered toys, Angela neared the old sagging couch and lowered herself to the floor.  She spread her legs out and tapped the floor between them and said, “Come here, Gretel.”

 

The Gretel did as instructed and sat down. Angela took the time to look over her furry friend, inspecting her side to side and top to bottom. When she was ready, she pulled out a black bag from behind her back. At the sight of it, Gretel made a distressed and timid grunt.

 

“I know, sweetie. I know.” She said. Angela opened up the bag and pulled out a number of combs with teeth of varying size and a dense wire brush. It was ironic that a dog with a pure white coat didn’t like being cleaned. In some ways, Gretel’s hatred of being wet probably stemmed from the result of being groomed afterward. It had been awfully hot that day, and that meant shedding for the long haired German Shepherd. The best thing to do would be to get her to the groomer as soon as she could to give the dog a light and slim summer cut. Unfortunately Angela couldn’t rely on herself to accommodate the appointment, especially if an emergency were to occur, so she had to do something to help the dog out.

 

Angela took off Gretel’s yellow collar and began to take the long strokes down the dog’s back. Gretel began to hop and move around to avoid the pull against her fur, but Angela kept her down and in control.  After three to four tugs with the brush, Angela had to pull it away and remove big balls of hair from the brush and throw it in the bag with the broken toys that would be disposed of later.

 

Angela moved to her side, and began speaking to the dog to help keep her mind off the brushing. “Now Gretel, I’ve been thinking, and it’s come to me that you may need a friend. What do you think if we find you a little puppy to raise?”

 

The Dog looked at her with her head tilted. Angela, giving herself an underbite to her jaw, continued the conversation on her behalf. “But mumma, why do we need another puppy? You know what the breeder said, ‘Doggies are like potato snacks. You can’t just have one.‘ If you keep this up you’ll be the crazy dog lady when you’re 40.”

 

Angela moved to the other side, bag starting to fill with removed hair. “Now Sweetie.” Angela said to herself, “there’s no need to call names at people. Plus, you’re such a good momma already that you can have the puppy for yourself. Wouldn’t that help you pass the time when I go to work? This way, you would have a ‘Little Spoon’ of your own, now!”

 

“But Mumma, how would I be able to watch the house if I have to watch after a little baby. Plus… I thought I was your ‘Little Spoon’… Does this mean you’re getting rid of me?”

 

Angela gasped, standing up on her knees and hugging Gretel tightly against her chest, “I would never say such a thing, sweetie! Is that cat across the street saying mean things to your again? ”

 

“No… but I still don’t like it.”

 

Angela returned to Gretel’s front, scratching the wire brush down her chest and pulling out even more white hairs from her hot coat. “It’s okay sweetie. If you really don’t want to take care of another puppy, then that’s fine for me.”

 

Nearing completion, Angela cut the baby-talk and returned to her normal voice and talked with sincerity. “Now Gretel, you have been a very good girl all day. I have the day off tomorrow, so if its nice and dry outside, I promise I’ll take you out to the park to play. If it’s too wet outside, then I promise we can go walking in the city and I’ll even go to the coffee house and order you a big cup of whipped cream. How does that sound?” The dog got really excited at the words that she recognized as meaning that she was going to leave the house for once. Angela had to coax her back down and control herself.

 

Done with the brushing, Angela set the brush down and gave her handiwork a look over. It wasn’t a long term solution, but if it helped her from feeling miserable in her own skin, then it was worth it. Then, she had an idea. She took a small comb and began combing the fur on top of Gretel’s head and began parting it, creating bangs and amassing the rest of the fur together into areas that she was familiar with.

 

Like looking in a mirror, she felt a peculiar sense of familiarity as she began combing the dog’s fur in the same way that she would do for herself. Finally, she reached behind her head and pulled her hair band out, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. She wrapped it around her fingers twice to get extra tight and then massed together the hair on the back of Gretel’s scalp and made the dog equivalent of a high ponytail.

 

She leaned back, and what she saw was a near perfect mockery of her favorite hairstyle. Everything, from the pump in the back, the cascade of her bangs down the right, and the heavy part was perfect on her dog’s head as Gretel looked at her with a confused look on her face. To top it all off, she picked up Gretel’s collar and placed it on the top of her cranium much like that of a halo.

 

“Perfect.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Although still dark, the sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon. Fittingly, the burst of stress energy gained from Angela’s brief few hours of sleep was finally wearing off. Now, the earth finally beginning to reach tolerable temperatures, the Doctor felt it was finally time to get some rest.

 

Drapes closed, Angela slipped into her two piece Egyptian cotton pajamas and pulled the side of the bed open. She gave a nice hearty yawn, and then slipped into the cool sheets. She closed her eyes and began to relax, disconnecting from the world and taking deep breaths.

 

But then, like countless times before, she heard the door open. She peeked an eye open and as she expected, Gretel was sticking her head into the room inspecting it to ensure that her charge was safe. A few moments later she pulled her head back out and continued her patrol of the premise. Angela smiled, Gretel was probably the most diligent person she had ever known. Even if all other things of this day and night have been abnormal, she was sure to at least make sure that her job was done.

 

She closed her eyes once more, and after a few minutes, she could hear Gretel approaching the door once more and take a peek inside at her.

 

She was about to let it be, but then she felt a little guilty. After all that she had done, Gretel deserved some time off as well. Angela opened the covers up and swung her legs over to the carpet. She exited the room, only to find Gretel at the door again having heard the commotion and moving to investigate.

 

Angela rubbed her hand across her face for the good work and said, “Let’s go Gretel, lets see what’s happening.”

 

The dog led the doctor through the house, to the sitting room where she peeked out the window, to the back door where she smelled to sense if the air was different. To the Kitchen to see if there was anyone there. To the garage door to see if it was closed. She even went down the stairs to the lab door just to make sure that the secured door was still locked. At each stop of their journey, Angela looked around and declared, “Looks safe here, Sweetie.”

 

Finally, when the house was secured, the two were back in the bedroom, where Angela held the sheets opened and gave Gretel a nice opening to slip into.

 

Finally, with the last thing of their day done- a few hours late, of course- Angela slowly nodded off to sleep, big White German Shepherd wrapped closely in her arms. Their bodies folding together in a tight embrace. With the last of her energy, Angela whispered, “Good night, Little Spoon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Donate to your local animal shelter today!


End file.
